Nightly Visits
by Aka-Chibi
Summary: Waiting can be so stressful and remorseful. She sometimes crawls into Fukami's bed for comfort, but he knows it need to stop. He just can't help but to enjoy it while it lasts


A/N: My first fanfic for this fandom! I did this in one day so sorry of it's not good.

* * *

Some nights she crawled into his bed when everybody was asleep - except the two of them, with her eyes peering at him in the darkeness and he could only look back.

* * *

She changed a lot as the days gone by. Ever since _he_ left, she rapidly changed from a bright and happy little girl to a quiet and reserved sea witch. Often times she would pull on a smile and insist that, no, she was alright and there was nothing to worry about! But to everybody's plain sight, she was not the same girl who frolicked around with her long braids bouncing off her back.

She became noticably different with her slow and careful walk through town, only a small greeting and nod to a friend, and her familiars were the who could see it the most in her - especially Fukami.

As the days wore on and her braids grew past her back and all the way to her feet, the octopus familiar could only watch as her shiny marble eyes turn into cold biting steel. Her smiles were small and painted on. Her cheeks never warmed up with a blush that made her look alive as it did in the past.

She waited for _him_, hoping that the man that sports a dark fin ontop his head would appear before her someday. She doesn't openly acknowledge this, but when Fukami hears the keys of her piano suddenly stop and he goes to peek behind her door to see why, he could see her looking out the window with her face deep in thought.

Her heart was gone and it belonged to someone else, no matter how hard Fukami wished it wasn't. Even if he flung her ocarina off the boat and into the vast sea, feigning ignorance if asked where it went, she would still long for the hot tempered shark.

Fukami wish she would forget about the missing man, but he knew that wish was impossible to fulfill. He loved her, but she loved another, and there was no certain if that man would ever return from the Sea of Death - or if he would be the same man.

They could only hope for his return, and she hoped. A lot. She hoped everyday for him to come home, she hoped to someday feel the touch of his worn jacket around her, and she hoped that she could be able to look into those dark azure eyes as tears of happiness comes dribbling down her cheeks. Fukami loved how loyal she was to her heart; he also hated it.

Still, as time went on, her hopes became... Quieter. Patient. That she has the knowledge that he will return someday, and all she has to do was wait.

She waited. She waited for so long. Her expressions are all tinted with a trace of sadness, and she took much too long to agree to go on the boat and venture like the good old days.

* * *

She sometimes crawled into Fukami's bed when everybody was sleeping. He never failed to stir awake when he felt her lift the blanket off of him, just enough for her to get herself under neath it as well. He was always such a light sleeper, after all. He couldn't even asleep with her head rest on his chest and her small body on top of his own.

She was so petite. She always had been, but nowadays she lost her appetite for food and couldn't eat enough to keep herself from going thin.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, his head moving forward to take in the scent of her freshly shampooed hair. Even if they were underwater, his sense of smell was still strong and she smelled like sea salt and a little bit of sweetness. His own hair grew out, and she idly weaves her fingers around it those silky blue strands with her small fingers.

They don't speak; there was no need for words. The first time she went into his bed, he didn't question it, and that was how it was everytime she came visiting him at night. He didn't have to ask; he knew why she wanted to sleep with him, and why him out of Memoca or Dolphi.

She desired his body. He was a male with a male body, and his body proportions were close to _his_. She longed for _him_, so she goes to embrace the closest thing to him: Fukami.

She curled around his body, snuggling against him and his warmth. His hands, although more slender and elegant than the shark's callused claws, rubs her back as she closes her eyes.

Sometimes she cries at night, and Fukami would kiss the tears on her cheeks away as he smooths out the hair on her head. Sometimes she would look up at him with those sobbing eyes and she fumbles for a kiss on his lips, and he would gently hold the back of her head and pull her in closer.

Sometimes he forgot why she wanted to sleep in his bed and he just goes to lay there with content in having his love in his arms. However, she always reminded him when she fell asleep and started murmuring _his_ name. Hearing her call for _him_ in the middle of the quiet night always sounded loud like thunder, and it never failed to strike Fukami like a knife in his heart.

He should stop indulging her with this night activity: she was only desperate to fill in that missing gap, even if temporarily. She can't help but to use him, and in the morning she would remember what she had done with Fukami and will become regretful. Even if Fukami went to tuck her back into her bed and she woke up thinking it was only a dream, she can't help but to feel guilty.

Fukami will only end up hurting himself more and more if he kept letting her into his bed, and he's certain that his heart will shatter if that shark returned. For her, she would either hate herself for not being physically loyal, or she would forget everything she has done with Fukami and just leave him behind in the dust for her true love.

He should stop the nightly visits. But having her so close to him, with the scent of her hair filling his nose and her soft lips kissing his own, he can't help but to be selfish. Someday that shark will return, but for now he could have her in his own arms. She loved her octopus familiar, but he knew it was in a platonic way. She wouldn't leave him, but she wouldn't be his own to kiss and hold. He can indulge in this activity for a little longer...

Fukami was a selfish, selfish man.


End file.
